“He owns a sleazy biker bar down by the docks, The Chief
.
He named it after a motorcycle,” Jake sneered. “He’s a thug, did time in prison. He deals drugs in his bar. You can’t be considering going out with him.”
Veronica halted in mid-slurp. Prison? Drugs? She let blind lust allow her to say yes to Nick, the leather-clad biker hunk. An ex-convict who deals drugs. She groaned inwardly.
Does she dare ask her cop brother about Nick Crocetti? Should she cancel the date? She didn’t even know how to get in contact with Nick unless she dropped by his bar. She glanced at Jake. The man looked a little too smug about the gossip he just unloaded.
“He did ask. I’m thinking about it,” she lied smoothly.
An older woman walked through the door.
“Sorry, Jake. “I have to go assist this lady. Thanks again for bringing me my lunch!” She dismissed him brightly.
• • •
During a brief lull in customer traffic later that afternoon, Veronica asked, “Julie, do you know Nick Crocetti at all or anything about him? Do you remember him from school?”
Julie’s eyebrow rose. “What made you bring him up?”
“He was in here today while you were on lunch. What have you heard?”
Julie shrugged. “I know he owns a biker bar or whatever it is. Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Veronica tapped the counter nervously. “He asked me out on a date this Saturday night.”
“What?” Julie yelled. More quietly she said, “The Terminator asked you out on a date?”
“What is he, an assassin? Why is he called the Terminator?”
Julie laughed. “Actually, that’s my name for him. Remember Arnold Schwarzenegger in
Terminator 2
? The black leather and the big-ass Harley motorcycle? Of course, Nick is way yummier looking than Arnold. I saw him once in the parking lot of his bar washing his bike with his shirt off. I nearly went off the road. Gorgeous body. I think he lives above his bar.” Julie sighed deeply, as if picturing a shirtless Nick in her mind. “I’ve never spoken to him and you’re hard pressed to find anyone who has. I’m shocked. He came in here bold as brass and asked you out? Wow.”
“What about the rumors, Jake said … ”
Julie waved her hand dismissively. “Jake is jealous. I don’t put any stock in those rumors, why not ask Tyler? He’d know if Nick is some drug-dealing scum.”
Veronica laughed. “Tell Tyler? I wouldn’t dare. He’d have Nick brought into the interrogation room and then beat the snot out of him with a phone book. I’ll find out for myself. Nick Crocetti doesn’t intimidate me.”
Right. There wasn’t much in this world that rattled her, but standing before the sexy presence of Terminator Nick rocked her senses. Her body sparked and thrummed with such sensual awareness just thinking of him. What would the actual date be like?
Nick hadn’t slept for two nights. He had restless-sheet-twisting-brain-racing-staring-at-the-clock-with-cat-naps-in-between type of sleep. Where to take Ronnie for dinner? Where to go for the drive? What in hell would they talk about?
What surprised him more than anything in their brief, disjointed conversation was the fact she knew him. He’d no idea. How did she know of him? He had to admit he was damned curious. Also, he was secretly and smugly pleased.
Sitting up straight in bed, he bent one leg and rested his arm on his knee. The rising sun filtered through his blinds and the rays spread across the carpet. He had to decide as the date was tonight. Maybe up to Easton on the Ocean Gateway, it wasn’t far. They had a great seafood restaurant. After, they could go to a piece of secluded beach he knew of.
The restaurant wasn’t too fancy, though there was that upscale wine bar he liked. Perhaps another time. His eyebrow arched. Another time? Planning on a second date already? No. His one and only date with Ronnie Barnes would be tonight. The time to fulfill his fantasies at long last — tonight. A quick toss in the sand should satisfy all his sexual cravings, past and present. He imagined them rolling around in the pounding surf, with him pounding into her. Jesus, his cock twitched and hardened at the thought. He hadn’t been this damned aroused in ages.
Nick groaned. He forgot to buy something at her store. He left in such a hurry. He made a quick exit in case she changed her mind. Well, that and his hard-on. The one he had now felt worse. Christ, he
was
still in high school. How many mornings did he wake up in this condition thanks to his Ronnie Barnes fantasies? He had to get her out of his system once and for all.
Nick threw back the sheet, time to get moving. He had to make sure his employee, Kevin Conway, would be covering him tonight at the bar.
• • •
Veronica closed at six o’clock on a Saturday night. Before she even bought the place she decided she wouldn’t be open Sundays. She needed one day off at least. She also decided she wouldn’t open until noon on Mondays giving her another morning she didn’t have to get up at three-thirty. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Close to seven and Nick would be here any minute.
She’d spent the last hour showering, waxing, plucking, and anything else she could think of to make herself look presentable. The decision on whether to wear her hair pulled back or leave it down plagued her for hours. The final decision was to leave her hair down. Using a curling iron, she made soft tendrils to frame her face. How much makeup? She wasn’t one to slather it on with a trowel, but she did like to wear a little. Veronica decided a little powder and a slight bit of rose blush and matching lipstick was all she needed. Now to choose her outfit. She could go full-bore slut mode, but she didn’t really own any sexy clothes. Well, except for one dress William made her buy in Vegas. The outfit was cut so low her size D-cups spilled out into her lap. Turn suddenly and her nipples would pop out and wink at someone. No way.
If she would be riding on the back of a motorcycle, then she wouldn’t wear a dress that would inflate like some slutty umbrella. She chuckled to herself at the image. Choosing a new pair of jeans and a pink V-neck sweater, not cut too low, but enough to give a peek of cleavage, she dressed quickly. The outfit she selected fit in all the right places giving her a younger and perky look even with her bust size. She sighed, always had a full bust. In high school boys were always trying to cop a feel to see if they were real, or try and prove she shoved a whole box of Kleenex down her front. William used to go on and on about it, forever grabbing her like he married her tits instead of her.
“I William Forteque Titus the II, take these tits to be my legally married … ”
Veronica giggled. Even his name — ‘Tit-us.’ It fit. If you can’t laugh about it, why bother?
She glanced at the wall clock above the door again. She grabbed a foam container and with long handled tongs picked out the two best cinnamon buns left on display and placed them inside. Nick left in such a hurry the other day that she never had a chance to offer him anything.
She heard it, the deep, throaty growl of a large displacement motorcycle pulling into her parking lot. He was prompt. The anticipation built all day. Really, she hadn’t dated or been with a man since she and William parted fourteen weeks after the marriage from hell which had been close to eight months ago.
Her mouth dropped open as Nick walk toward her door. She expected him to be in his leather, kick-ass biker gear. He wasn’t. Nick wore tight-fitting black jeans, expensive ones from what she could see, and black cowboy boots. He also wore a brown, muscle-embracing sweater, a light-weight blend that accentuated his golden coloring and stunning upper torso to best advantage. The sleeves ended just past his elbow giving a lovely view of muscled forearms dusted with golden-brown hair. Oh my, he looked as sweet, sinful and delectable as her cinnamon buns.
She unlocked the door and he smiled. Nick had gorgeous, straight, white teeth that looked even more brilliant against his dusky skin.
“Hi Nick, come in for a minute.”
He glanced at his watch. The gold watch looked like one her father used to wear, one you had to wind. It wasn’t new and didn’t look cheap.
“Only for a minute, I’ve a reservation for us in Easton.”
“Easton, I haven’t been there in years! We used to all go to the Waterfowl Festival every year when we were kids — don’t laugh. They had rides, food, music, and crafts. It was a lot of fun.”
She sighed happily at the memories. Snapping back to the present, she held out the foam container to Nick.
“Something for you, to prove I can actually bake. You left in such a hurry the other day I didn’t get a chance to give you a free sample.”
• • •
Nick opened the container. The fresh odor of cinnamon and sugar invaded his nostrils. Damn, it did smell good.
She stepped closer. Her breasts brushed by his arm sending a wave of heat all through him. He almost dropped the container.
“I use cream cheese icing. The trick is not to overdo it and use just enough to meld with the cinnamon.”
He closed the container. “They look really good, thank you. We’d better go.”
“Did you want to leave them here and get them on the way back?”
Nick mulled it over, was it an invitation to come back to her place? Wishful damned thinking.
“I can put them in the basket on the back of my bike.”
He strode to the door and held it open with one arm. His other hand still gripped the container.
She walked past him, close enough to brush by his sweater and allowing him to have a whiff of her delicious aroma. Some fruity body wash, delicate, not overpowering. He could detect expensive cologne mixed with her distinct, sexy, feminine scent. He closed his eyes briefly and savored it. Nick stepped aside so she could lock the door.
Walking side by side toward his bike, Ronnie cocked her head. She seemed to do it a lot and he thought the gesture cute.
“This is a different motorcycle from the one you had the other day.”
“Yeah, the Dark Horse is only a one-seater. This is an Indian FE. Lots of room for two.”
“A picnic basket, Nick?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I have a few things in it.” He shoved the cinnamon buns in the basket, then handed her a helmet. “We’d better get going.”
Thirty minutes later and they were sitting in the restaurant. They enjoyed a bowl of crab soup and were waiting for the steaks to arrive. In between courses they made small talk about generalities, nothing too heavy or probing personally. Nick was too preoccupied by the perpetual hard-on he had since Ronnie climbed on the back of his bike and snuggled her lush body against his. The sensation of those luscious breasts slammed against his back with her small, delicate hands around his waist, and her feminine core nestled against his ass — lingered. Nick had felt her heartbeat, every intake of her breath and he could feel it still. Never was he so in-tune with a woman’s body before, every twitch and every movement without sex being involved. His cock was as hard as granite. Unbelievable. The erection felt damned painful and embarrassing.
“Nick?”
The steaks arrived and he missed what she’d said.
Idiot.
“Sorry, Veronica. Guess I’m a little tired. It’s been a long week, must’ve been for you as well with your grand opening.”
“Nick, you can call me Ronnie, most people do. I guess I’m tired too, but it’s a good tired. I never knew there was such satisfaction in owning your own business and being your own boss. But you know what I’m talking about don’t you, Nick? How long have you had the bar?”
She smiled sweetly at him while she cut a small piece of her medium-rare steak and popped it in her mouth. Damn. Even watching her eat affected him. He imagined that sexy mouth on his dick. His cock jolted in response. It had a life of its own and he couldn’t control it.
The point she made was a good one. He liked being his own boss. Granted, he wasn’t making a huge profit, but living upstairs saved him from renting an apartment elsewhere and let him indulge in some of his hobbies. He had developed a few.
His thoughts drifted back in time while they ate. Years back, after eating another Kentucky Fried Chicken snack box for an umpteenth meal, Nick decided he wanted something more out of his life than greasy take-out. So he began to read, voraciously devouring books on all manner of subjects. He loved wine and was quite knowledgeable on the different regions and vintages and collected rare bottles. The wine he ordered tonight reflected that. Szekszardi Bikaver, a Hungarian red he knew would go perfectly with their steaks. Nick’s thoughts snapped back to the present.
“I bought the property about nine years ago when I came back to town. It didn’t cost much, considering where it was located. I paid cash for most of it and only needed a small loan. My uncle backed me for the difference. The place is all mine. You’re right, there is a certain satisfaction owning your own business. But it does take up a lot of time and energy. I have one employee and he covers me if I need time off and helps around the place. It’s not very big.”
These words were the most he’d said to her or anyone lately.
“But it’s yours, Nick. No one can take that away from you,” she whispered. She raised her wineglass. “Here’s to us and our businesses, may they flourish and bring us the success we want.” Nick smiled and clinked glasses with her, they both took a sip. “Oh, Nick. The wine tastes great with the steak, full-bodied and lush.”
Like you
, he almost said aloud. He wanted to taste her, every damned inch of her skin. Savor her like a fine wine. His cock jerked again. He had to get rid of this madness, this crazy lust and it had to be tonight. Maybe he could talk Ronnie out of dessert.
• • •
When they stood to leave, Veronica impulsively slipped her arm through his. She felt him stiffen. Was her touch so horrible? She gazed up at him and his face seemed to be devoid of emotion as it had been since they’d became reacquainted.
Nick surprised her tonight so far. The ease in which he ordered the wine, his mode of dress, and when she had managed to get him to talk it was obvious he wasn’t a knuckle-dragging nimrod. He fascinated her to no end. The questions she wished to ask mounted, but Nick remained guarded about a lot of things, his past most of all. This would require a good deal of patience. Veronica could be patient when needed. Instead of being put off by his reaction to her touch, she pulled herself closer to him. Did he just moan? The sound so soft she’d barely heard it. She smiled. Perhaps he was not as unaffected as she thought.